


A heart is a heavy burden

by obfuscatedheart



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail as Markl, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Cannibalism, Hannibal as Howl, Howl Moving Castle AU, M/M, Will as Sophie, brief Alana Bloom/Margot Verger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26408752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obfuscatedheart/pseuds/obfuscatedheart
Summary: Will works in a tackle shop that was left to him by his late father. A chance encounter with first a wizard and then the powerful Witch of the Waste leaves Will transformed into an old man. He seeks out the infamous Hannibal to break his curse.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38
Collections: Reel Hannibal 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completed fic that will be posting weekly!
> 
> The Howl's Moving Castle AU that no one asked for but here it is anyway!
> 
> This was inspired by this spectacular[piece of art](https://twitter.com/wholeanddeadly/status/1130176478958825472) by [gleamingwholeanddeadly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_safe/pseuds/gleamingandwholeanddeadly)! Check out some of their other work [here](https://twitter.com/wholeanddeadly)
> 
> Fic was beta read by the incredible TempestandTeacup who you can find [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempestandTeacup)

Will is working at the table in his room, he can hear the family working in the other ones. Carefully he wraps more of the thread around the lure before adding some deer fur.

“We’re heading out, Will.” His cousin Frederick says after long moments.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Can you deliver the lures to the fishmongers?”

Will nods, as it means he can see his childhood friend Alana. 

“Be careful out there, Will. They say that wizards are taking young men.”

Will makes a non-committal noise; he knows that he doesn’t match the usual profile of the victims. He isn’t strong or good-looking enough to be taken.

“Alright, see you.”

“Bye,” Will says as he finishes the lure he's working on.

Finally the building quiets down. There is no one left and Will feels like he can relax, humming as he works. Starting on another lure he works for an hour before he packs up and gathers the finished lures to deliver them.

Will pulls a hat over his head; he has to jam it down so that it sits on his unruly hair. He catches a glance of himself in the mirror before he leaves and isn’t surprised by the deep circles underneath his eyes. Nightmares have been plaguing him for days now. It’s always the same one where he is followed by a raven-feathered stag.

He locks the shop behind him. It’s early evening so the sun is setting and the streets are thronged with people. There seems to be some celebrations to boost morale because of the war taking far longer than anyone had expected. 

Walking down side streets to avoid the people however places him on the path of soldiers who heckle him as he walks. 

A soldier approaches him. “How much?”

“I’m sorry?”

“For your company.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea."

“Someone like you? I don’t think so.”

An arm comes around his shoulder. “There you are, darling. Sorry I’m late. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The man is dressed in far more luxurious clothes than anything Will has ever seen before. He looks at the man; he has a striking face with bright blond hair that falls to his chin. The patterns he is wearing would look ridiculous on another person, but it suits him. A coat is draped over his shoulders like a cape.

The soldier glares at the man and moves towards them. The hand on his shoulder makes a gesture and the soldier straightens out and then marches off, distress clear on his face. A wizard, Will realises. 

“Don’t hold it against him. They’re not all bad.”

Will can’t speak, mesmerised by this wizard.

The wizard doesn’t seem to mind that he hasn’t spoken and says, “Where to? I’ll be your escort.”

“Just to the fishmongers.”

The wizard glances behind them and adds, “Don’t be alarmed, but I’m being followed. Act normal.”

The wizard tucks Will’s arm to him and Will holds on. They fall into step as they walk, Will’s heart hammering in his chest. The rhythm of their steps doesn’t feel nearly quick enough. He wants to look behind them. He can hear the faint blub of something gelatinous moving behind them.

“Sorry, looks like you’re involved.”

Dark blobs appear in front of them wearing hats.

“This way.” The wizard says as he tugs Will down an alley to their left. They are speeding up now. Even down this alley, large blobs appear to block their path. The man holds onto Will’s waist tightly and says, “Now!” He jumps and Will follows looking down to see the blobs collide with one another.

They are flying. Will’s knees are tucked up high and the wizard chuckles. “Straighten your legs and start walking.”

Slowly Will straightens his legs and begins to take steps. His head feels dizzy as he knows he should feel something beneath his feet, but he doesn’t. Will’s heart is like a rabbit in his chest as they walk in the sky over the roofs of the city.

“See, that’s not so hard” The wizard laughs in delight and adds, “You are a natural.”

No one below notices them. Slowly the wizard places Will onto the balcony of the fishmongers. “I’ll draw them off. You wait here until the coast is clear.”

Will nods, slowly letting go of the man’s hand, as he says, “That’s my boy.” Will flushes at that and watches in shock as the man jumps backwards off the bannister to the street below. He looks like he's floating. 

Will watches the hustle and bustle of the streets below, sure that the last few minutes had been but a dream.

Suddenly he can hear footsteps behind him and turns around. Alana is running up to him. 

“Alana!” He cries as he opens his arms for her. 

“What happened?” She is holding onto him for dear life. “Someone mentioned you floated down onto our balcony.”

“Huh? That really happened. For a moment I was sure it was a dream.”

“Alana, why don’t you use the office.” Margot’s voice sounds out behind them. She is Alana’s wife and business partner. Together they own the fishmongers and shop.

Alana looks at Margot over Will’s shoulder with such obvious love and fondness that it makes Will a little jealous. She tells Margot, “I should be getting back downstairs. Thank you though.”

She links her arm with Will’s and together they go downstairs to the stores. She seems desperate to say something but waits until they are alone before she asks him to tell her everything that had happened.

When he’s finished speaking she looks at him with concern. “Do you think he might have been a wizard?”

“I’m almost certain of it. But it’s strange because, Alana, he was so kind to me. He rescued me.”

“Like you need saving. But aside from that he probably only rescued you to steal your heart. And if it was Hannibal he would have eaten it.”

That thought, if it were even possible, that someone picked him soothes him. “He wouldn’t. Hannibal only does that to beautiful people, and I’m not that.”

“Absolute nonsense, Will. You are gorgeous! But that isn’t the point. You have to be more careful.” She pauses and seems to deflate. “They say the Witch of the Waste is back on the prowl.”

Alana continues talking about witches and wizards and Will tunes her out. His mind is on the flight over the city. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Alana says as she nudges him.

Will sighs and turns to her. “I’m sorry.”

She sighs and then stands. “I have to get back to work. Margot needs my help.”

“Of course. Let me give you what I came for.” He hands over the packaged lures.

Will watches as she carefully unwraps them and gasps. “Oh, Will, these are beautiful!”

“Only the best for my favourite person.” He stands from his seat on one of the barrels in the storeroom. “I’d better go and leave you to your work. I know I could have had them delivered but I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

Alana walks him out of the building. Once outside she turns Will by his shoulders to look at him directly. “Are you going to spend the rest of your life working in that shop?”

“You know how important the shop was to Dad. Besides I am an only child so I’m the only one who could look after it.”

“You have a family. Besides, I’m not asking you what your dad would have wanted. I want to know what you want.”

“I - I don’t know.” Will shakes his head. “I really have to go, Alana.”

“Okay. It was good seeing you.”

“Yeah, it was.” He turns and makes to walk away. 

“Will, you have to do something for yourself for a change.” Alana calls out after him.

“Bye.” He calls back.

He gets on a tram on his way back. The city is getting dark and with the climate as it is, he feels a little safer in a public space. Alana’s parting words hang heavy over him, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He has never given it much thought, about leaving the shop to anyone else, and doing something different.

When he reaches the shop it is almost completely dark with only a few streetlamps that light the way to the shop. Once inside he locks the door behind him. He is the only one there; everyone had left when he’d told them to and his family weren’t people that tended to stick around once they were given the opportunity to leave.

He takes his hat off and leaves it on the counter, no one else there to care about it looking untidy. Will lights a lantern by the cash register and readies himself to take account of the sales made that day.

The bell over the door rings and he looks up. A woman is standing just inside the door. Will is sure that he had locked it. 

The woman is short but cuts an imposing figure somehow. A wide-brimmed hat obscures her face. She looks like she doesn’t belong there; her clothes are far too well-fitted to belong in a tackle shop here. 

“I’m sorry, but the shop is closed now, ma’am.” Will says as politely as he can muster. He has never enjoyed the customer service aspect of owning a business preferring instead that someone else deals with them.

The woman approaches him slowly, her heels clacking against the floor with each slow step. Will feels his heart begin to beat faster. Somehow it feels like he is in danger here.

Only when she is a few feet in front of him does she speak, her voice soft but all the more threatening for it. “What a tacky shop, filled with tacky tat.” She looks around the displays before directly at him. “But I’m afraid you’re the most tacky thing here.”

Will can see her face for the first time; the woman is beautiful. The expression on her face is almost filled with disgust. “Well, it is a tackle shop, ma’am.” Will quips.

He regrets the joke as soon as her face turns sour and she stalks forward again. He steels himself and brushes past her to open the door again. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now, ma’am.”

Will looks at the open door and sees the blob creatures from earlier that day blocking the doorway and oozing into the shop.

“Standing up to the Witch of the Waste is plucky, you righteous, reckless, twitchy, little man.” 

Turning back towards her he is shocked when she spreads her arms and the sleeves of her dress look like bat wings. Leaning forwards with a dangerous look in her she flies forwards and Will ducks into a crouch, but she passes straight through Will.

He stays crouched over as she says with a laugh, “The best part of that spell is that you can’t tell anyone about it. My regards to Hannibal.”

The door slams shut and Will stays there for what seems like hours. The shop is dark because the lantern had blown out in the gust of wind as the Witch had flown towards him. His heart is beating fast in his chest and it is almost painful. Slowly he straightens it, taking far longer than he thinks it should. He bends to pick up the dropped lure that had blown off the shelf.

Will is shocked when he sees his hand. Gone is the one he is so familiar with, the one he sees everyday as he makes lures and fixes motors. Instead it is the arthritic hand of an old man.

He reaches up to touch his face, and it doesn’t feel right. The skin feels loose like he has shrunk inside his own skin. With trepidation he hobbles over to the back room to look into the mirror there. Will had never been a vain creature, but looking back at him from the polished surface is not his face. He looks like he imagines his father might have done had he lived longer. 

When the face in the mirror moves as he turns from side to side, he realises the face looking at him in the mirror is in fact his own. The Witch of the Waste had turned him into an old man. Will tries to calm himself against the panic that is growing inside his chest. 

The way he looks doesn’t concern him. He has always considered himself to be a plain man to look at, but he knows that there will be questions from his family. Will isn’t sure how he could even begin to answer them.

He begins to pace through the shop and into the courtyard out the back. Usually pacing calms him down, but it is doing little to slow the racing of his mind.

Only when his legs begin to ache does he relent and head upstairs to bed, hoping that this was all just a dream.

***

When Will wakes up the first thing he does is check the mirror in his room. It is perhaps the first time in his life that he looks in there before anywhere else. The old man's face is still looking at him. Dismay fills him when he realizes that his family will be arriving soon to open the shop, so he decides to stay in his bed.

An hour later there is a knock on his door. “Will, are you in there?”

“Don’t come in, Frederick. I’ve come down with something and I don’t want anyone to get sick too.” His voice rasps and the fact he sounds like his father makes him feel miserable.

“You sound awful.” Frederick says through the door. “Like an old man.”

“I’ll stay in bed today.”

“You had better.” Frederick says, and then his footsteps disappear down the hallway.

He gets out of bed slowly. When he looks in the mirror again he steels himself, saying “This isn’t so bad. You’re still healthy and your clothes finally suit you.”

Will decides that he can’t stay there. He gathers up some supplies and gets dressed. He writes a note which he leaves on the desk of his room along with his keys.

He sneaks out of the house and shop, making sure that no one sees him as he goes.

And just like that he leaves the city and everyone he's ever known.

Will is grumpier than ever. He is sure the scowl on his face matches his mood but people are nicer to him than ever. Many offer assistance as he reaches the city limits. A cart driver even lets him sit on the back of the cart on the way to a farm at the edge of the Waste.

At the farm the man gives him food and tries to persuade Will to not go into the Waste as there are stories of the Chesapeake Ripper having hunted recently in the area. But Hannibal is exactly the person that Will is searching for, and from what he can tell Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper, though both are shrouded in mystery and fearful rumors.

The Waste is beautiful, and after a few hours of walking he sits down on a rock to eat. He feels thankful that his teeth all seem to be intact, but he knows that it will take him too long to continue unaided.

He looks around at the bushes that surround him and spots a branch sticking out that might work as a cane. Will stands up slowly, his back and legs aching, and walks to the bush. He pushes on the branch to loosen it. Finally, when it comes loose with a rush he can see that it is actually the bottom of a scarecrow.

The scarecrow has a pumpkin for a head, and he chuckles to himself. Seeing the figure rise from the bush had been a little terrifying. He had been sure that it had been one of the blob men he had seen around the city.

“You’ve got a pumpkin for a head! I’ve always hated pumpkins. I think I’ll call you Pumpkinhead.”

Will walks away from the scarecrow, making his way uphill. The wind is picking up,and will tucks his cape around himself to try and ward off the chill.

He looks down over the city and realises he hasn’t moved very far. He curses his new body that isn’t able to carry him forward in the way he is used to.

There is tapping behind him and Will turns to see the scarecrow following. It is hopping on the stick.

“Turn around!” He shouts. He wants to be left alone. “Stop following me! You don’t have to thank me.”

Pumpkin doesn’t stop and keeps approaching. “I’m sure you’ve got a spell on you, and I’ve had enough of witches and spells.” 

Will turns and keeps walking up the hill. The tapping doesn’t stop even as he continues walking; it proceeds on until it is level with Will. He looks at the horrid smile painted on the pumpkin, a little afraid of what is to come. Then something hits the ground next to him. 

Will looks at the item and sees that the scarecrow has brought him a cane. The handle is an intricately carved mongoose. It looks far more expensive than anything Will would ever own. But he supposes he ought not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Thank you! This cane is perfect.” Will sighs, then adds with a slight smile, “If you could do me one more favour? Can you bring me a house to stay in tonight?”

He doesn’t really expect anything from it, but Pumpkinhead bounds off anyway.

Something casts a shadow on the ground and Will looks up at the sky. “A battleship. That can’t be good.” 

He knows of course that there is a war happening, but with airships in the mix it seems likely that civilians will be affected. 

Will keeps walking up the hill. The wind is freezing and seems to be blowing through him even though he is thicker now than as a young man. The air chills him to his bones. 

Suddenly he can smell fire and he wonders if there is a cabin nearby where he can stay for the night. Will isn’t sure that he would be able to survive a night out in the open.

Then the scarecrow appears over the crest of the hill. A large structure follows him. He recognizes it from all of the stories that he has heard.

“You idiot! That’s Hannibal’s castle. That is not what I meant when I asked for a place to stay.”

Will regards the structure. it is a hodgepodge of different structures added to one another in a completely nonsensical order. “And they call this a castle.”

The structure stops in front of him and Will wonders if there is a place that he can enter. Then he sees a door. Will tries to run towards it as fast as he can, but his legs aren’t as quick as he is used to. Then the structure is moving again and Will leaps forward. 

He manages to grab a hold of the railing, pulling himself upright with great difficulty. He pulls at the door but the building doesn’t seem to want to let him inside. “Let me in!”

Will’s cape blows off his shoulder and he feels even colder. Then the scarecrow is bounding next to him, his cape caught on one of his hands. Will takes the cloth from him. Finally he is able to wrench the door open and Will falls inside.

The first thing he notices is the warmth. He can hear a fire roaring somewhere in the room. Will looks around to find the source of the fire. The room is completely filthy with books and dishes cluttering up every surface.

Even if he is now in the belly of the beast at least Hannibal won’t eat his heart. After all, who would want the heart of a shrivelled, old man like him?

Will looks around the room more closely trying to see if there’s any order to the ‘Castle’. Will thinks that it doesn’t really deserve the title of Castle because the place is a complete and utter dump. He shuts the door behind him and makes his way to the center of the room where a fire is roaring.

There is a chair right in front of the fire and Will is extremely grateful for it as he sinks in. After the chill of the Waste the warmth of the fire feels like a balsam. He bends to add a log to the fire to keep it going before he settles in to try and sleep.

“I don’t envy you, old man. That is one bad curse.” The voice sounds like that of a young girl’s, and he looks around. But there is nothing in the room but himself and the fire. For a moment he looks more closely at the fire. It almost seems like there is a face in the fire. “Curses are tough. You’re going to have a very difficult time with that one.” 

It’s then that he realises that the fire is speaking to him. “Are you speaking to me?”

“I was.” The fire is grinning at him. “Let me guess, the curse won’t allow you to talk about it, right?”

“Are you the Chesapeake Ripper?”

The fire scoffs. “No. I am an extremely powerful fire demon named Mischa.” She expands as she speaks as if to show Will how powerful she is.

“A fire demon?” Will considers the little he knows about wizards and demons. “Are you able to break my curse?”

“Perhaps.” Mischa says slowly. “Maybe we can strike a deal. You break the spell that’s on me and I’ll break your spell.”

“If you’re a demon, how do I know I can trust you?”

“I don’t know, old man. Demons don’t make promises.”

“Then find someone else.” Will says with a wry grin. If he never finds a way to break the spell or doesn’t meet Hannibal then at least he’s not much worse off than he had been before.

“Come on. You seem like a decent enough man. And you should feel sorry for me.” There are tendrils of fire moving as though Mischa is gesticulating with her arms. “The spell keeps me stuck here in the castle and Hannibal treats me like a servant. Do you know how much I’m burnt up every day? Heating the rooms and water? Not to mention moving the castle wherever Hannibal wants it to go.”

Her voice is soothing and Will feels his eyes begin to droop.

“If you can figure out a way to break this thing I’ve got with Hannibal then the spell can be broken. After I regain my full powers I can easily break the curse on you.”

“All right then.” Will grumbles. The weariness is beginning to set in and the warmth of the fire is making him feel even more drowsy.

“It’s a deal.” Mischa says and it looks like she’s grinning.

He closes his eyes and drifts off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The castle reveals another occupant than Hannibal, a young woman who identifies herself as Hannibal's apprentice.

Will wakes with a start and instantly regrets the sudden movement. Every single one of his joints seem to hurt. He looks around at what had been the source of his sudden wakefulness. There is a voice talking to someone. He glances around the room, it is now bathed in a little sunlight. There by the door through which he had entered is a figure speaking to someone just outside. 

The door shuts with a slam and the figure walks up the steps to stand in front of Will. It is a young woman who is looking at him with suspicion.

“What are you doing here, Grandpa?” She pulls back the hood to reveal her face. Once the hood is down it changes her appearance completely.

“Mischa said I could come in.”

“I did not.” Mischa sounds amused from behind Will. “He just wandered in from the Waste.”

“He’s from the Waste? How do we know he’s not a wizard?”

“Do you think I’d let a wizard in here, Abigail?”

Before Abigail can answer there is a chime and Mischa says, “Baltimore door again.”

Abigail pulls the hood back over her face and now she looks like an old lady. “Must be a customer.”

She approaches the door and announces. “Stand by.”

The door is opened and she says, “yes, my dear child?”

Will can’t quite make out what is being said but then Abigail walks past Will and hisses at him, "Just keep quiet and don’t cause any trouble, grandpa.”

Behind Abigail is a young boy who couldn’t be much older than seven. He is looking at Will with wide eyes.

“Are you a wizard too?”

“That’s right. I’m the scariest wizard of them all.” The boy giggles.

Abigail hands him an envelope and gives him instructions on how to use the contents.

“Thanks.”

“Farewell, child.”

Once the door closes behind the boy Abigail rounds on him. “Quit lying to our customers.”

“What about you? You’re in disguise. That’s a form of lying.”

“I’m practicing my magic.” She says with pride in her voice.

Will opens his mouth to speak but another chime rings out. This one is a little higher than the first. “It’s the Chesapeake door.” Mischa says.

Abigail pulls her hood back over her face and approaches the door again. “Standby.”

He walks a little closer to the door to try and listen in. 

“Good day. Is this the residence of the great wizard Mostro?”

“It is.”

“I bear an invitation from His Majesty, the King. Please inform Mister Mostro that all witches and wizards are required to report for duty at the palace.”

“I will inform him right away.”

Once the man at the door has gone, Will approaches the door. “This is the royal city, isn’t it?”

The girl pulls him back, “Move it,grandpa, or you’ll lose your nose. And stop wandering around.”

Will looks at the door handle and sees a dial. There are four colours and he spins it slightly to change the colour. Above the door the matching shade appears and Will rips the door open and steps outside to a completely different city.

From inside the castle Abigail shouts at him. “Stop this, grandpa! I’m getting angry.”

Will goes back inside and looks between Mischa and Abigail. “This really is a magic house.”

He looks at the dial. It seems that the blue one leads to Chesapeake, the red to the Waste and the green to Baltimore. The only colour he is unsure of is the black. He wants to see where this one goes but he is a little afraid of it. 

“Abigail, where does the black one lead?”

“Only Master Hannibal knows that.”

She looks at Will with a fearful gleam in her eyes. “I need some breakfast; I’m starving.”

Abigail pulls a drawer open and takes out a loaf of bread. This entire part of the room that almost looks like a kitchen is stuffed to the brim with supplies. There is no rhyme or reason to any of it.

Will looks around the room and spots something else for breakfast. “Don’t you want some bacon and eggs?”

“Yeah. but we can’t use the fire when Master Hannibal isn’t here.”

He takes a frying pan off a rack on the wall and the basket filled with bacon and eggs. “Don’t worry, I can cook breakfast.”

“That’s not what I meant. I can cook too. But Mischa only listens to Master Hannibal.”

Mischa seems to stick out a flaming tongue at him. “That’s right, old man. I won’t take any orders from you.”

He sees his hat on the floor and picks it up. Then he rounds on Mischa, “All right, Mischa. Time to get cooking.”

“I don’t cook! I’m a scary and powerful fire demon.” Mischa is expanding in all directions trying to make herself look bigger. But Will is unimpressed.

“Do I need to throw a bucket of cold over you?” Mischa is glaring at him and Will leans in close to hiss, “Or I could always tell Hannibal about our bargain?”

Mischa sighs before roaring, “I never should have let you in here.”

“What will it be?” Will asks with force. He shoves the frying pan into the fire, and for a moment Mischa fights him; he can feel it in the way that the pan seems to shake. Finally she relents and the pan settles. 

He places the strips of bacon into the pan to let the fat render. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Mischa’s face appears just by his sleeve. “Here’s another curse: may everything you cook burn”

Will ignores her. He knows that she is just upset that she isn’t able to do what she wants. Behind him he hears the girl mutter something. Will can’t quite make out what she says but he asks her, “Do you have a kettle? I fancy a coffee to go with this food.”

Mischa exclaims in outrage. “Don’t get the kettle! Who’s side are you on, Abigail?”

Before Abigail can answer she is once again interrupted by the door chiming. This time Mischa doesn’t announce the location. Instead the dial simply turns to the black and the door opens. All Will can see is an inky blackness from which a familiar figure emerges. 

It is the same wizard who had flown him across town. Although he is a far cry from the dapper and confident man he had been earlier. He looks exhausted as his shoulders droop. He walks and his head is hung low.

“Master Hannibal. The King’s messengers were here. They said you have to report to the palace. As both Mostro and Fell.”

Hannibal seems to brush past Abigail because suddenly he is standing at Will’s side and looking down at the fire.

“Mischa, you’re being so obedient.” Hannibal is smiling again. “Never would have thought I would see the day.”

“You try reasoning with him. It’s impossible.”

He turns to Will, “and who are you?”

“I’m Will. I’m your new cleaner.”

Hannibal looks unconvinced and asks, “Who hired you?”

“Mischa did. She said the state of the house is a mess.”

Hannibal only hums and then shoulders Will out of the way. He takes a hold of the handle of the pan and for a moment he is holding on to Will’s hand; Will thinks it feels far nicer than it has any right to. 

Will steps back and then Hannibal holds out a hand. He knows immediately what Hannibal wants and passes over an egg.

The egg is cracked against the side of hearth and then poured into the pan. The clear turning white almost instantly. Hannibal throws the shells into the fire and Will is sure he sees a tongue catch it. It’s so bizarre to see. Hannibal holds out his hand again and Will passes him eggs until there are six in the pan. 

Will tries to clear some space on the table and find some cutlery and something to eat off of. Eventually he is able to find three mismatched plates. Abigail is cutting slices of bread for them and places them on the plates. Will watches Hannibal as he cooks. Somehow the cape that covers his shoulders does not move at all. But Will can still see the play of muscles underneath it. Suddenly he understands why people are lured in by this man. 

Mischa grumbles when Hannibal places a kettle next to the pan but Will can feel the heat increase in the room. Watching Hannibal is mesmerizing and it lulls him into a trance, so he jumps a little when Hannibal fills a cup in front of him with fragrant coffee. Will takes a sip gratefully; it is the nicest cup of coffee he has ever had.

Then Hannibal serves them a few slices of bacon and two eggs each. They all tuck into the food. 

“So tell me, Will, what’s in your pocket?”

Will is surprised as he is sure there isn’t anything in his pockets, but he reaches in. He is surprised to feel the edges of a card there. Carefully he withdraws it. The card is black and gold and folded in half. 

“Give it to me.” Hannibal says, and Will hands it over.

The moment the card touches Hannibal’s hand it sets alight and then markings are scorched into the table. 

“Scorch marks!” Abigail cries and looks absolutely fascinated by them. “Can you read them?”

“Of course.”

There is a strange look on Hannibal’s face that is a little frightening. “Man who swallowed a fallen star. Heartless man, your heart will soon be mine.”

“Is it the Witch of the Waste?”

“It would seem that way.” He looks at the markings on the table. “This can’t be good for the table.”

Hannibal touches his hand to the markings and Will can smell the burning of flesh and feel the power in the room. It travels down his spine like a caress. Hannibal’s hand passes over the mark and it is gone from the table. 

“You got rid of it!” Abigail says in awe. 

“The mark is gone but the spell lingers.”

He is smiling but Will is sure that it feels more calculating than anything else. He is sure that he has never been in the room with that much power. 

Hannibal looks around the room and then at Abigail, “Did anything happen while I was gone?”

“The Kings want to see Il Mostro and Fell.”

“I imagine it’s to help the war effort.” 

Hannibal looks thoughtful. “It seems that way.”

Will looks at Abigail who looks excited, “Are you going to see one of them? Or both of them?”

“I don’t want to get involved. Happier to stay away from everyone.”

“Purnell would not like that.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to. And Mischa can keep moving us so she can’t find us.”

“I really resent that, you know.” Mischa says from her place. “I’m not just here to move the castle.”

Hannibal waves his hand and Mischa huffs, small puffs of smoke filling the room. Will finishes his food and offers to wash up the dishes. Abigail laughs and asks him where he would do that. 

That’s when he notices that the sink is filled with dishes that would make it hard to do any washing up. 

Hannibal doesn’t seem to be paying them any attention as he stands. “Mischa, can you move the castle 60 miles West? And heat some water for my bath?”

“Like I don’t do enough around here.”

Hannibal only smiles and scrapes the crumbs from his plate into the fire, climbing the stairs leaving Abigail and Will alone.

“Are you working for Bedelia?”

“Of course not. She’s the reason I-.” Will is shouting until his mouth seems to clam shut and he cannot seem to open it whenever he tries to talk about the curse.

“I hate her and if I ever find her I will rip each of her limbs off one by one!” Will finally shouts and bangs the table. Abigail jumps and Will says more calmly, “Finish your breakfast. I have a job to do.”

They both finish eating, the calm pace from earlier gone. 

After a few moments Abigail finds a book and sits in one of the windows. Mischa is muttering to herself as Will surveys the room. 

He manages to dig out a broom, mop and bucket. He turns the dial to the Waste and opens the door. 

Rolling up his sleeves he gets to work. First he sorts everything into piles of what needs to be cleaned. There are far too many things to clean, and Will wonders if the castle has been cleaned at any point. Abigail is watching him as he works before she heads up the stairs. 

Will knows that there will be even more to clean there. He does find a small nook that he can use to sleep in. Mischa is muttering to herself the entire time that he’s cleaning but Will ignores her. 

There is something soothing about cleaning. It allows Will to ponder how on earth he will break his curse. Mischa seems to think that she will be able to lift it. Somehow Will seems doubtful, but he does know that he doesn’t know nearly enough about demons and magic to know whether Mischa is lying to him.

Will mutters to himself as he works. He is tired of being treated differently because he looks older. He has gone through life being looked over in favour of everyone else in his life. Now that he looks and feels older it’s like people finally are able to see him as a person. 

Abigail is carrying things out of the room as he works, occasionally opening the door to Baltimore and Chesapeake when the doorbell rings. She turns away one man by telling him, “A wizard is on a rampage in here.”

Once he has dusted everything and removed the numerous cobwebs, he begins washing and tidying everything on all of the counters. He can hear Mischa mumbling to him but he is too focused on finishing. 

He tidies everything back into a semblance of an order. He even mops the floor. Will is a little appalled at how many times he has to change the water before it runs clear. 

Will rolls up his sleeves and then the cuffs of his trousers. He is almost finished with this floor of the castle except the fireplace which is completely covered in ash. Mischa is holding onto the almost charred log that is left in the fire. 

“Will, please.”

He spreads out a sheet beneath the fireplace. “Will, if I go out Hannibal will die.”

Will takes a pair of tongs and picks up the log with Mischa holding on and places her into a steel pot. He sweeps all of the ash onto the sheet and then ties the ends together to carry it outside. 

He finds himself feeling more energetic than he had felt the previous days. Will doesn’t know whether it’s because he is in a magical place or he is doing more. He dumps the ash into the Waste and watches as it blows away. 

When he goes back inside Hannibal is standing by the fireplace. There are new logs there and he is holding something in his hands; it looks like it’s beating. Hannibal blows at it and it lights, from which Will can see Mischa’s familiar face peaking out. 

Hannibal turns on Will. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t torment my friend.” His voice is cool and Will feels like he has made a mistake. A deadly misstep. Will had heard the rumors about Hannibal and now he thinks he understands what they meant.

“It won’t happen again.” Will watches as Hannibal piles wood into the fireplace and then places Mischa on top of it. She makes a happy little sigh.

“You’re right, it won’t.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I’m going out. Don’t wait up.” Hannibal says as he approaches the door. He turns the dial and then steps into inky blackness.

Will feels completely chastened by the situation as he looks at Mischa and apologises to her. She seems to shrug her shoulders as if she knows that it was a mistake. 

He makes his way to the foot of the stairs and calls for Abigail. She leans her head over the bannister. “Yeah?”

“Whatever you don’t want tidied or cleaned, you need to put away.”

“No!” She looks aghast. “I’m not ready.”

“I can do your room last if you like?”

“Please.” Her head disappears and Will can hear her feet moving quickly above him as she goes to her room. 

The upstairs of the castle is even more filthy than the lower floor. The first room he tidies and cleans is a bathroom. There are various bottles gracing every shelf and after he has cleaned the room he tidies them away. 

There is one room that he doesn’t dare enter. It is quite clearly Hannibal’s bedroom. There is something sacred about someone’s own space that feels like it can only be entered with permission.

Finally he knocks on Abigail’s door. She opens the door for him and then disappears down the stairs. He can hear her exclaim how tidy it is there. He feels a sense of accomplishment at that. 

Abigail’s room he only cleans as he doesn’t want to disturb her too much. While he is dusting the nightstand he spots a picture of Abigail in the arms of a man who looks like her. She looks happy and Will smiles.

Once he is finished he goes back downstairs and finds Abigail sat in one of the window seats curled up with a book. 

“Do you want some tea?”

She nods, and after giving Mischa a look Will places a kettle on the fire. He lets the water boil and then steeps tea in a pot for both of them. He sits down next to Abigail and offers her a cup which she takes it with a grateful smile. 

“How did you end up under Hannibal’s tutelage?”

“My father was killed.”

“I’m sorry. There is nothing quite like the keen knife of a parent’s death.”

“It was a good thing in the end.” Abigail sounds thoughtful. “I don’t know if you ever heard anything about the Minnesota Shrike?”

“I believe I read something in a newspaper.”

“My father was the Shrike. He killed and ate girls that looked like me.” 

Will follows his urge to hold Abigail’s hand and she squeezes back gently. “Hannibal found me. I still don’t know exactly how he did.”

“And he gave you an apprenticeship?”

“He saw something in me, I’m still not entirely sure what it was.”

“You clearly have some sort of gift. Hannibal doesn’t strike me as someone who suffers fools lightly.”

“My dad was loving right up until he wasn’t. When Hannibal found me, my dad had slit my throat.” She pulls her scarf down to reveal a twisted scar that takes up most of her neck. “Hannibal killed him and then saved my life. I owe him everything.”

Will nods slowly. “Abigail, I have to ask. Are the rumors around Hannibal true?”

“I don’t know. It could be possible. He certainly seems like he could be capable of it.” Abigail closes her book and finishes her tea. “It’s late and you must be exhausted. I’m going to bed.”

Will takes the cup and places it in the sink. He is surprised when he feels arms wind around his waist and he is hugged by Abigail. He finds himself smiling even in spite of himself. Will wonders what has inspired this affection in the girl. He has never quite felt this much kindness from another person, except perhaps Alana and Margot.

Abigail leaves the room and Will settles in front of the fire. Mischa watches him with keen eyes and Will falls asleep to the comforting crackle of her flames.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will settles into life at the castle and learns more about the rumours that surround Hannibal

Will wakes when he hears the door open. A figure enters the room and for a moment it looks exactly like a monster. The figure is gaunt and the skin is as black as ink, antlers almost brushing the top of the ceiling. Will blinks and then he sees Hannibal. He is holding a bag in his hand that seems to be dripping blood. Hannibal looks surprised at Will being up.

“How are you doing?”

“Not too bad. I’ve cleaned everything except your bedroom.”

“I appreciate it.”

Will looks at the bag in Hannibal’s hand and raises an eyebrow. 

“A successful hunting.” Hannibal only answers.

He undoes the ties to the bag and takes out the contents. There are cuts of meat and a heart that looks far too large to be from any animal that Will knows of. He is almost certain that it’s human. But he doesn’t dare ask. Hannibal busies himself with preparing the cuts of meat and places them in a cupboard with an incantation. Will is fascinated.

Hannibal gives the heart to Mischa who gobbles it up greedily. For a moment she burns white hot and Will is staggered by the heat. Then the flames die down and she looks satisfied. 

“I have to feed Mischa as she keeps me alive. I owe it to her.”

Will can only nod his head. There is so little that he truly knows about magic, and even the past 24 hours has taught him so much already and he can’t wait to find out more.

“Go to bed, Will.” Hannibal says after a moment. “Mischa will make sure that we’re safe.”

“Where did you find her?”

“That is a story for another day.” 

Will only nods and approaches the little nook he has made for himself in the room. There is a bed that he sinks into gratefully. 

***

The next morning the sun wakes Will and he feels refreshed for having spent the night in a proper bed as opposed to the chair in front of the fire. He doesn’t hear any noises from above him that would signal anyone else being awake, and he takes his clothes and goes into the bathroom. He showers quickly and then pulls on the spare set of clothes in his pack. 

Will decides that he will be doing some laundry that day. As a child he had watched his mother clean clothes in the river. And Will had seen a river near the castle when he had looked out the window. But he will have to wait until the others are awake before he can go. 

“Mischa, are you the one who moves the castle?”

“Of course I am. I’m the only one around here that does any work! No matter what Hannibal might say.”

“I like your spark.” Will is grinning from ear to ear. He is impressed by Mischa. He knows that she is far more powerful than her form would let on. 

“You like my spark?”

“Of course. It can’t be easy moving this entire building.”

Mischa sparks and laughs. For a moment Will feels like he is in a room with a young girl who has just been told that her dress is pretty.

He takes the kettle from the shelf and fills it with water from the sink. Mischa doesn’t complain and accepts the vessel immediately. While the water heats he takes out mugs and tea. It seems that today he is moving with a little more ease than he has done the past few days. When the kettle finally whistles he pours the water over the tea and lets it brew. 

Will picks up the chair and takes it outside. He realises then that the body of water he had seen before is not a river but a lake, which he still will be able to use as a place to wash clothes. 

He goes back inside to fetch his tea. Will settles in the chair and looks out onto the lake. The sky is still stained with the remaining colours of the sunrise and it is perhaps the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He wishes then that he still had some of his tackle as he thinks it might be a good fishing spot. 

It’s the most peaceful he has ever felt. Even though he is in the presence of someone who almost certainly eats other humans and has every intention of feeding them to Will. He considers this for long moments--- what it says about him that he will eat at Hannibal’s table knowing what the man does. But after examination he realises that he has seen enough strangeness over these past few days that it is the least strange thing about Hannibal. 

Will sips at his tea and watches the sky turn a clear, startling blue. Once the sun is so bright that it burns his eyes, he goes back inside. There is still no sign of life from any of the other inhabitants, so he goes about making breakfast. 

Once the frying pan is in the fire and Mischa seems content enough with him cooking bacon, he can hear the light patter of Abigail’s feet above his head. Will smiles. There is something intriguing about the girl that he can’t quite pinpoint. A deep sadness that he attributes to the loss of her father, but something deeper and darker too that makes her fit well with Hannibal. He knows there is a darkness in him too, one that he has never been able to quite shake entirely no matter how much he has tried to bury it deep down. 

It’s harder to ignore the darkness when he has so much time to think whilst he cooks. But Abigail’s arrival in the kitchen makes him feel a little lighter. 

Without prompting she sets the table and a few moments later Hannibal appears, almost as though he had simply always been there. It’s nearly unsettling. Will turns to the table to serve their breakfast, and Hannibal smiles warmly at him. It makes Will feel a little hot, but he blames it on standing so close to the fire. 

“This isn’t half bad.” Abigail says after she takes a bite. “Not quite as good as Hannibal’s though.”

Will makes a mock offended noise and Abigail laughs. “Does he often sleep in late?”

Abigail nods and says, “He’s often out late at night too, what with the war going on.”

“What side is he working for?”

“I think both? But I’m not sure.” She stabs at her food. “I don’t think he likes war. So he tries to slow things down.”

“You’re right.” Hannibal’s voice can be heard from behind him. Will whips his head around to look at Hannibal.

“What is Abigail right about?”

“That I’m trying to slow things down.” 

“Why?”

“Too much is lost in wars.” Hannibal sits at the table and serves himself some food. “Humanity is the only species that has gifted itself cruelty.”

“But you’ve been summoned by both kings.”

“That I have.”

“Will you go?”

“I don’t want to.”

“I think you’re someone who never does anything they don’t want to.”

“You would be correct.” Hannibal cuts himself a portion. “This is good.”

Will can’t help the way he flushes at the praise. It is not something that he has experienced much in his life. He can hear Abigail chuckle beside him, and he smiles at her.

They finish their breakfast in companionable silence. Afterwards Will washes the dishes and Hannibal goes upstairs after telling Mischa to heat bath water for him. Will listens to the sound of the water rumbling through the house as he works. Mischa is grumbling, as she seems to do when she has to heat water.

Abigail is reading at the table and taking notes from the books spread out across the table. Will finds himself at peace in a way he hasn’t since his father passed away. 

The comfortable silence is broken by a scream and then hurried footsteps down the stairs. Hannibal leans over the bannister. He is wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Will can’t help but follow the path of a drop of water down his chest. He feels a little hot under the collar. Will knows that Hannibal is attractive, but there is a power in his body that isn’t immediately obvious when wearing his suits.

Hannibal comes running down the stairs to stand in front of Will. “Look at me!”

Hannibal is tearing at his hair. The colour is different from his usual golden strands. It is at the moment a vibrant green. “Did you mess with the bottles of magic potion?”

“I only tidied up and cleaned in there. It was absolutely filthy.”

“You should have known not to mess with the order of the bottles.”

Hannibal looks almost ready to cry. “Look what you’ve done to me!”

Will doesn’t think that he has done anything too drastic, and he is sure that Hannibal will be able to correct the mistake with magic.

Hannibal collapses into the chair in front of the fire with his head in his hands. “I used to be beautiful” he sobs. 

The house begins to darken with shadows that move across the walls. Hannibal’s head is leaning against the fireplace. His back is almost distracting, and it is wracked with sobs. 

“Hannibal, stop that!” Mischa says with fear as the shadows begin to take shape into monsters. Will looks at the man and sees that he is oozing a black tar-like substance from every pore. 

Will sighs and then lets the dishes he is holding sink back down into the soapy water before drying his hands on his trousers. He approaches Hannibal carefully. The shadows are beginning to look a little scary when he goes over to the man. His skin is almost completely covered in the black substance. Will places a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder and it feels sticky, like he won’t ever be able to remove his hand from the skin. He can feel the play of muscles beneath his hands, and Hannibal’s power is even more apparent.

“Hannibal.” Will says, his voice shaking. He takes a breath and continues, “You need to get up.”

Hannibal doesn’t answer and instead seems to sink from the chair. The black liquid is making its way towards Mischa. She tries to move as far back as she can. 

“I’m ugly.” Hannibal sobs.

Now Will is angry. If there is anyone who knows what it is like to be unattractive, then it is him. He watches as the color of Hannibal’s hair turns a brilliant blue. “You’re not ugly. You’re beautiful. Hannibal, you have no idea what it is like to be ugly!”

Will picks up Hannibal’s arm and places it around his shoulder as he lifts. “You don’t know what it’s like to always be ignored by everyone because you’re not beautiful.”

Hannibal doesn’t say anything, but the shadows begin to retreat. Will looks at Abigail who is watching them with wide eyes. “Abigail, can you clean the fireplace?”

She nods and gets out of her chair and approaches them. Will hefts Hannibal to an almost standing position and then drags him towards the stairs. “Mischa, I know you’ve done it already, but could you heat some more water? I need to clean up Hannibal.”

“Fine.” Mischa huffs, but Will can hear the pipes rumble to life again. Hannibal is sinking to the floor and nearly falls as Will puts his foot on the bottom step. Will hoists him up again and slowly pulls the other man up the stairs.

There is a wet plop and Will looks behind them to see the towel wrapped around Hannibal’s waist is lying on the floor. He catches a glimpse of Hannibal’s ass as he turns back around. Will tries to keep his eyes straight ahead, keenly aware of the beautiful, naked man in his arms. Finally he is able to get Hannibal into the tub in the bathroom. He tries to keep the thought of naked Hannibal out of his head.

Will turns on the faucets to the bath and watches as hot water fills the tub. He grabs the sponge lying on the lip. He washes the black substance from Hannibal’s skin. It reveals a pale color that is rubbed pink by the sponge. He pours water over Hannibal’s head to wash his hair. Will finds a bottle of soap that he uses to wash the blue strands. Hannibal’s hair is incredibly soft to touch even while wet. Finally, Hannibal is clean of everything and Will drains the tub. He wraps the older man in a towel; Hannibal is not helping him in the slightest, but he no longer feels like a dead weight as Will helps him into his room and onto the bed.

The room is filled with brightly colored knick-knacks that glitter in the candlelight. It’s beautiful, and it suits Hannibal. Will tucks him into the bed and then leaves the room. The man looks peaceful while he sleeps, the blue of his hair a beautiful contrast to his skin.

Will goes back downstairs and makes a cup of tea. He knocks on Hannibal’s room and then enters. Hannibal is still in bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. He looks almost like a prince from tales of old. Will places the tea on the nightstand. “I made you some tea. Drink it while it’s hot.”

Hannibal doesn’t seem to react to that so Will turns to leave. He is almost at the door when he hears, “Will, don’t go.”

Will sighs, then pulls up the stool next to Hannbal’s bed to sit.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No.” Hannibal sounds like he doesn’t quite know what he wants.

Will settles on the stool and looks around the room. There are so many objects that shine with lights and spinning objects. It’s fascinating to watch.

Suddenly one of them rings out and glows brightly, and Hannibal opens his eyes wide. “The Witch of the Waste is looking for the castle.”

“I thought I saw one of her creatures in Baltimore.”

“The truth is I’m a coward. I use all of this magic to keep everyone away. I can’t stand how scared I am.”

“Tell me, why is the witch hunting you down?”

“She was once quite beautiful, so I pursued her. Then I realised that she was terrifying, so as usual I ran away.”

Will rolls his eyes. He knows how easily people are led astray by a beautiful face, and he is glad once again that his is plain to look at.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep running. There are people calling for my aliases.” 

“How many do you have?”

“As many as I need. Enough to keep my freedom.”

“Just refuse.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? If you have so much magic you can keep the Witch of the Waste at bay then surely you can refuse this invitation.”

Hannibal doesn’t answer and instead rolls onto his side. Will sees it as the dismissal it is and leaves the room. His head is filled with images of the Witch of the Waste and Hannibal, and he doesn’t like the strange feeling that sits in his chest, for it is something that has teeth.

***

Will finds a fishing line and a rod in one of the rooms in the castle and takes the chair back outside. He casts the line and sits on the chair, watching for the tell-tale bob of the line. He waits a long time for the line to pull taut, but when it does Will feels that familiar excitement as he reels the line in and manages to catch a fish. It wiggles as he grabs it. He stuns the trout and then bleeds it. It’s a large fish and he knows that it will make a good dinner for them. Carefully he carries the fish back in once the bleeding has stopped. Inside, Abigail is no longer at the table.

Taking it to the counter in the kitchen Will guts the fish and then packs it with ice that he finds in a cupboard. It is strange for him to find that the cupboard is cold enough to keep ice stable. Once again Will feels surprised that magic is so powerful. 

Once the counter has been cleaned, he tries to come up with something to make with the fish. He searches through the cupboards until he finds spices and vegetables. Although he manages to find almost enough ingredients, it isn’t quite what he needs. He finds Abigail in her room and asks her if she wants to go shopping with him. She agrees with an excited nod. He goes back downstairs and waits for Abigail to appear. 

They leave the castle and step out into Baltimore. The sun is blinding and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. Abigail clutches at his arms. Will is almost certain that when she has never really been allowed out of a house unsupervised. They spend a few hours to stock up the cupboards, Abigail by his side excitedly chatting about the spells that she is learning.

He tires easily, but Abigail immediately takes the bags off of him to ease the load and together they make it back. There is no sign that Hannibal is even still in the castle. Mischa seems perfectly happy now that Will has arranged for a pile of logs to be next to her in a pile. She smiles at Will when he refills it once it has dwindled to only a few logs.

“Busy day?” He asks.

“Not really. Hannibal is up to something but I’m not sure what it could be.”

“He doesn’t tell you?”

“No. Only tells me to do something when he sees fit.”

Will turns to Abigail. “Why don’t you put everything away, then you can go ahead and study upstairs while I make dinner.”

Abigail nods and Will watches as she puts everything in the cupboards in a flurry of activity. He misses the energy he used to have. Once the bags are empty she heads upstairs, leaving Mischa and Will alone.

“Any idea on what to do with the curse?”

Mischa hums. “It’s going to be difficult, and I still don’t know exactly what would break the curse.”

“But it can be broken.”

“A curse is like a promise. It can be broken in the right circumstances.”

“Pretty shitty promise, if you ask me.”

Mischa laughs and Will thinks it sounds like a young girl is in the room with him. “That it is. But Hannibal might know.”

“I can’t tell anyone about it.”

“Ah, yes. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knows.”

Will turns on Mischa. “You mean to tell me that Hannibal knows I am cursed and has done nothing about it?” He knows his voice sounds a little desperate.

“I wouldn’t say that. But however I’m linked to Hannibal I am still unable to read his mind. He remains as much of a mystery as he does to you.”

He breathes in slowly trying to calm his anger. It isn’t Mischa or even Hannibal’s fault that he is cursed. No, the blame lies solely with the Witch of the Waste. But Will is sure that he won’t ever see her again.

Will washes his hands and starts preparing dinner for the three of them. He lays the table while the soup is simmering. He calls for Abigail and Hannibal and is almost a little surprised when he hears two sets of footprints. Hannibal looks far happier than he had earlier in the day. He has kept the blue hair and it looks good on him. Makes him seem far more open than the blonde had.

Hannibal and Abigail take their seats around the table and tuck into the soup. Hannibal’s praise drips down Will’s skin like honey. Will feels it like a warm caress, almost sure that his cheeks are heating, so he ducks his head down low.

“We had more messages from the King. This time an invitation directly from the High Wizard.”

“Do you know him?”

“I do. Crawford was my mentor. We parted ways because he disapproved of my methods.”

“What methods would those be?”

“You saw some of them.”

Will swallows. It seems that Hannibal is confirming the rumors that gather around him. But Will can’t bring himself to really be disgusted by them.

“Are you going to go?” Abigail asks. She is watching them both with wide eyes.

“I don’t want to.” Hannibal pauses and he looks at Will intently. “But I know someone who will go in my stead.”

“Why would I go?”

“You’ll pretend that you’re my father and tell Crawford that I am too ill to attend.”

“I can’t do it by myself.”

“You won’t need to. I will be there in disguise to make sure you say the right thing.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I do.” Hannibal sounds completely earnest. “But Crawford is clever and dogged. Besides, he has sent a magic summons, so it compels me to go.”

“Can’t you tell him what you think? That the war is stupid and you don’t want to help?”

“You’ll go in my stead.” Hannibal is looking directly into his eyes with obvious fire. “There is no one else I trust more.”

Will sighs. He doesn’t think he can refuse. “Fine. But you promise that you’ll be there.”

“I promise. You’ll know.”

Will thinks back to his conversation with Mischa but doesn’t press any further.


	4. Chapter 4

Will is about to leave the castle when Hannibal approaches him from behind. Hannibal had charmed his clothes so that he is now wearing a nice shirt and trousers. They feel luxurious on him, in a way that none of his clothes usually do. Will’s heart catches in his throat. He can feel Hannibal’s solid heat at his back.

Hannibal is wearing a red jumper that is impossibly soft as he is plastered against Will’s back, arms wrapped around Will to lift his hand. Hannibal slips a ring onto his index finger. It is black with a bright red jewel in the center. “This ring will make sure you return home safely.”

That’s what the castle is to Will now: home. It’s strange how quickly it happened, but the castle feels more like home than the shop ever did. Will isn’t sure whether he will return when the curse is broken, not sure what is left for him in the shop.

He is pushed out of the door by Hannibal who tells him, “Off you go. I’ll be right behind you in disguise.”

Will uses his cane even though he doesn’t really need it. He walks towards the palace, wondering the entire time where Hannibal is; he decides that Hannibal wouldn’t have disguised himself as any common bird that he sees flying around the city. 

The palace sits on top of a hill with countless white marble steps. He hears tapping behind him and turns around. Following him is a small dog, white with brown spots along his back and on his ears. “Hannibal is that you?” Will whispers.

The dog only looks at him. He can’t be sure that it is Hannibal. It seems a little subdued for the man, but he can’t be sure. Then Will’s heart drops when he sees familiar blobs. They are carrying a carriage. It moves along next to Will and a curtain is drawn back to reveal the Witch’s face. 

She looks at him with keen eyes, “Look who’s here. The tacky boy from the tackle shop.” She laughs. “Thank you for passing on my love note to Hannibal. How is he by the way?”

“He’s being a coward and he’s working me to the bone as his cleaner.”

She laughs loudly at that. “How delightful. But what brings you to see the King?”

“Job hunting. I’m sick of working for Howl.”

“I received a royal summons. That idiot Crawford finally realized how much he needs my power.”

“If you’re so great, you can break the spell you put on me.”

“I’m ever so sorry, my dear. My talent lies in casting spells, not breaking them.”

Will sighs heavily and the blobs speed up so that they pull ahead of Will. He lifts his cane and shouts for them to stop, but they just ignore him.

As they approach the steps however the blobs begin to melt until the carriage lands on the floor with a thud. Once Will is caught up with the carriage he notices a thin line drawn on the floor. He steps over it to approach the entrance. When he begins climbing the steps, Will looks back once and sees that the dog is too short to climb the stairs.

With a heavy sigh Will returns and picks up the small creature before continuing his climb. He feels out of breath with the weight of the dog, even though he hadn’t seemed heavy at first. There is a landing halfway up and Will stays there for a few moments to catch his breath. Below, the Witch of the Waste is climbing up the stairs, but her heels are far too cumbersome and she seems to be struggling. Will rolls his eyes and continues on until he finally reaches the top. He sets the dog on the floor and it walks off.

“Hannibal, wait!” Will shouts after him. The Witch is still climbing the stairs so Will waits for her. He supposes that she knows where Crawford will be. The Witch is shouting after him and Will claps back, “Do you know how to break the spell?”

“No. I have no idea.”

“Then you better get to walking.”

She is tottering on the heels, her beautifully coiffed hair beginning to fall into disarray.

“Almost there.” 

Finally the Witch approaches him. She looks exhausted. “Next time I will make you senile too.”

She looks older than she had before.

A crier announces them as “Bedelia Du Maurier, the Witch of the Waste, and Mr Fell.”

“Fell? Is that your name? Why does that sound familiar?”

Will swallows around the lump of fear in his throat and says, “Because that was the name of my tacky tackle shop.”

The halls of the palace are opulently decorated, and Will thinks that Hannibal must have loved staying there, as he does seem to love beautiful things. Will spots the dog a little ways away, seemingly waiting for Will to catch up. A door opens to the left and Will sees a room with a chair in the center. Bedelia walks towards the room, “A chair! That’s mine.”

She is still swaying on her feet as she stumbles towards it. “We haven’t got time for that.”

“I don’t care. Crawford can get me from here.”

The dog walks off into a dark corridor. “Hannibal, get back here!” Will hisses

Will follows the dog, leaving Bedelia where she is. Into the corridor he realises it is just a dark corner. The wall slides open and a man is standing there. “Follow me.”

Will follows the man into a greenhouse. It is lush with plants. There in the center of the room a man is sitting on a chair holding a long staff. The dog runs towards him.

“Hello, Buster.” The man says to the dog and Buster lies down next to him.

“Take a seat.” The man says. “You’re Hannibal’s father, so you must be tired.

Will takes the seat indicated to him with thanks.

“I am Jack Crawford, the High Wizard to His Majesty.”

Will is looking at the dog. “Is that yours?”

“Buster? He is my errand dog. I had him escort you here.”

Will sighs. He feels stupid for not realizing that the dog isn’t Hannibal.

“I imagine Hannibal isn’t joining us?”

Will nods, “He’s so lazy. He sent me instead. The King won’t find any use for him at all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Hannibal was my last apprentice. He showed so much promise in his youth. But he has become a bit of a nuisance. What a shameful waste. When his heart was stolen by a demon he changed. And since then he has used magic for his own gain.”

Crawford regards him. “Maybe I can still use you? There is strong magic about you.”

“I’m afraid I have nothing to offer. It is only the charms that Hannibal used on my clothes.”

“A pity.” Crawford looks intently at Will. “Mr. Fell, that man is far too dangerous to have those powers without a heart. If he continues on in this manner then he will turn into the Witch of the Waste.”

At those words a wheelchair is brought in. On top of it is Bedelia. But she is no longer the beautiful woman that Will remembers. Instead she is shrivelled and looks centuries older. She seems completely shellshocked.

“What happened to her?”

“I returned her to the age she is and stripped her of her powers. She once was a magnificent witch with great powers. But then she made a bargain with a demon. A greed demon that consumed her, body and soul, long, long ago.”

Crawford rises to his feet. “Our kingdom can no longer hold court for these degenerate witches and wizards that make a mockery of our arts. If Hannibal reports to the palace and vows to help in the war effort then I will help him break free of his demon.”

Will gasps.

“If not. I will strip him of all his powers, just like her.” He looks at Bedelia in disgust.

Rage fills Will and he too jumps to his feet. “Stop that! Now I understand why Hannibal refused to come here. It’s a trap where you lure someone here to steal their powers in dark rooms. All because they refuse to fight in a war that is killing scores of people. Hannibal may be cowardly but he is anything but heartless.” Will feels far stronger than he has for days. “Hannibal doesn’t need you. He can fix his own problems. That much I know.”

Crawford laughs. “Now I understand. Tell me, do you feel a stab of hunger for Hannibal and find nourishment at the very sight of him?”

Bedelia clutches at Will’s trouser leg. “Hannibal is coming? His heart belongs to me.”

“Stop that!” Will hisses in fury. He doesn’t want Hannibal there if it means that he will fall into Crawford’s trap. “Hannibal won’t be coming here.”

“Oh, I think he will. I know his weakness now.”

A door opens from the gardens into the greenhouse.

“Your Majesty.” Crawford says with a smile at the figure that comes striding in. 

“Thought I would come to see you rather than sit through another dull war meeting.”

“What an honor.”

“Who are your guests?”

“This is Mr Fell, Hannibal’s father.”

The King approaches Will and Will bows his head. He may not have been raised around court but he still remembers that it's the done thing.

“Thank you for coming. But I have decided that I don’t need magic to win the war. We have used Crawford’s magic to protect the palace from bombs. But they fall on civilian homes instead. That’s the problem with using magic, isn’t that right, Crawford?”

Crawford inclines his head, “You’re so eloquent today, Your Majesty.”

“Crawford!” A voice that sounds exactly like the King booms out from the other side of the room, and the exact same figure approaches them. He is clutching a piece of parchment in his hand. “I’ve got a new battle plan. This time we’ll get them.”

The King pauses when he sees Will and the other king and guwaffs. “Crawford, this is the best double you’ve made yet! Keep up the good work.”

The King leaves after Crawford thanks him. The wizard turns to them. “It’s been a while, Hannibal.”

Will is confused, and then he watches as the King’s features melt into Hannibal’s familiar ones. Feelings war inside Will. He is glad to see the man but on the other hand he is petrified what will happen. If Crawford is able to strip Bedelia of her powers then surely he can do the same to Hannibal. 

Hannibal bows. “You’re looking well, Crawford.”

“Rather pathetic disguise. Did I not teach you better?”

“No treachery was intended. I kept my oath. I reported when summoned.” He throws an arm around Will and pulls him against his chest. “Now, father and I will be leaving.”

“I don’t think so.” Crawford bangs his staff against the floor and a wave comes crashing over them. Surprisingly once it passes Will is just as dry as he was before. The room glows with the light of a sunset. Hannibal squeezes him.

“Don’t look down. You will be dragged away.”

“Mr Fell, I think it’s time you saw Hannibal for who he really is.”

Crawford waves his hands and Will looks up at Hannibal, when he gasps. Hannibal's skin is bleeding into black and antlers begin to grow out of his head. He is terrifying and beautiful in equal measure. Will reaches a hand to brush over his cheek and Hannibal nuzzles into it. Shadows begin to dance around the room and Will can hear chanting.

With Hannibal holding on to him, Will doesn’t feel afraid at all. Bedelia is clutching at his legs as falling stars burst around them. The chanting is otherworldly and Will feels dizzy. Claws dig into his arms and he can feel the way that Hannibal is tensing to spring forward. Will sees Crawford lifting his staff like javelin.

“Hannibal, stop! It’s a trap!”

Hannibal roars and then they are flying through the roof of the greenhouse. “Hold on.” Hannibal cries and Will holds him for dear life. They land on the other side of the greenhouse where a small aeroplane is waiting. Bedelia is dropped on the last seat at the end. Hannibal kicks into gear, looking like himself again, and Will has never felt better for it.

“Will, sit here.”

Will climbs to the seat right in front of the levers, fighting against the wind of the motors the entire time. Hannibal is holding onto him still.

“Nice doggy.” Bedelia says and Will whips his head around to see that Buster is settling on her lap. Will doesn’t know whether this is dangerous for them, but then they are lifting into the skies and he can’t bring himself to hurt the dog.

“You had to bring them with you, did you?”

Will grumbles.

“Take the wheel. They’re approaching us.”

“I can’t fly this thing!”

“Yes you can. You’re a cunning boy.” Hannibal makes a gesture in the air. “I’ll distract them and you fly West to my castle.”

“I don’t know the way.”

“Don’t worry. The ring I gave you will guide you home. All you have to do is summon Mischa in your heart.”

“Mischa?” he asks as he thinks of the fire and her laughter. After a moment the red jewel starts glowing.

Hannibal laughs. “Well done.” The praise makes him feel warm even as adrenaline makes him restless. “Follow that light and you will find home. You should be there by nightfall.”

“I can’t do this. Why did you make me come here if you were going to show up?”

“That man is terrifying. Perhaps the only man who will ever be able to best me. But you being there gave me courage. You saved me.I was in grave danger back there.”

Hannibal lets go of the wheel and the plane drops slightly until he manages to get control of the wheel. They brush past a church roof, taking some of the shingles off in the process. Hannibal roars with laughter.

“I can give you 5 minutes of cover. Use it wisely.” Hannibal makes another gesture with his hand and then the plane is lighter as a copy appears next to them. Hannibal is no longer standing right beside him, and they almost drop again before Will is able to stop them. “Good luck.”

Will feels bereft at Hannibal leaving them, but he knows what he has to do. Hannibal had given them a task to complete, so Will carries on.

They fly through the air, Bedelia quietly humming to herself even as rain begins to pour out of the sky. The light from his ring is the only thing that makes Will feel like they are getting somewhere. He sees the lights of his home beneath him and he knows that they are getting close to the castle.

Finally he can see the castle in the distance. It appears to be approaching them, and Will has never felt more glad to see the hunk of metal. He realises then that he doesn’t know how to land the thing, and they end up crashing into the side of the building, right into the living room.

Abigail comes stumbling down the stairs. “Will, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Will says, as he stumbles over the rubble and Abigail throws herself into his arms. “I missed you too, little one. Thank you for coming to meet us.”

Abigail goes back to bed. 

The living room is almost a lost cause, but Will settles Bedelia on the couch and then pulls his own mattress onto the floor. He curls up on the mattress with Buster lying at his feet. 

When Will wakes later with a start, he is almost certain that Hannibal has returned. He looks around the room and notices feathers lying on the floor along with bloodied footprints. He follows them up the stairs and to the door of Hannibal’s room. Will holds a candle in his hand, the only light that he has. When he opens the door he is surprised to see that the room is now a dark tunnel that seems to stretch into the void.

Carefully, Will walks deep into the cavern, wax dripping onto the floor and pooling in the puddles of blood. The knickknacks that had been in Hannibal’s room are strewn about, glinting from the flame. He comes to a fork and Will on instinct takes the left. Something in him knows where Hannibal is.

There at the end of the tunnel is a dark shape that is heaving. Feathers cover the entire surface. Raggedy breaths are being drawn and Will can tell that the shape is hurt. He approaches until he is within touching distance. 

Gathering all his courage he reaches out. Will is so focused on the creature in front of him that he almost misses that it looks the same way that it always has. The creature snarls and then he is faced with Hannibal’s, but more angular and inky black. His milky white eyes are almost looking through him. Hannibal’s shoulders are covered in feathers and he is bleeding from a wound on his side and mouth. 

“Are you in pain?”

“Go away.” Hannibal’s voice growls, and it sounds far deeper than anything else.

“No, I am never leaving. I’m going to help you break your spell.”

“How could you possibly break my spell when you can’t even break your own?”

“I’m trying my best.” Will wants to cry How can Hannibal ever know the lengths he will go to help him. “You don’t understand.”

“It’s too late. I will stay like this forever now.”

Hannibal stretches to his entire height and goes crashing through the wall.


End file.
